Redemption
by genocideray
Summary: A weird story concept that popped into my head. Sebastian confronts and is confronted by his other, angelic self. They must put aside their animosity from the past and work together to protect Ciel. Kuroshitsuji is owned by Toboso Yana, not me. Don't sue?
1. Initiative

**Redemption: Initiative**

As he entered his room, Sebastian Michaels pulled off his form-fitting tailcoat and rubbed his nose bridge in exhaustion. _Really, that little brat…I swear, if it wasn't for the contract... _He grimaced and then went to his mirror and started pulling off his necktie. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw flash of white, and reacted without thinking; flinging a silver vase that stood on his dressing table towards it.

The white-clad figure perched on top of his bed caught the vase with two fingers, and sighed, "Really, demon, is this any way to treat your other self? You've been getting paranoid of late. I think that boy's gotten to you."

Sebastian didn't react but turned back to the mirror, continuing to unknot his tie. "What do you want?"

The white-clad figure sighed again and then jumped lightly down, white hair shimmering in the candlelight, and from behind Sebastian, whispered into his ear, "You know what I want." They were identical in every feature except for their hair and eye colour, making a disconcerting image in the mirror, alike but yet so different.

"Remind me again," Sebastian replied nonchanlantly, all the while pinning his other self with glowing cat-eyes, and pulling off his gloves with his teeth.

"You could give the Initiative back to me." The sky-blue eyes in the identical face shimmered peacefully over his shoulder. "I would ensure that Ciel remains safe."

Sebastian smirked as he dropped the gloves into his open palm. "I recall it was _you_ who offered me the Initiative, back then when the Phantomhive family was decimated. What was that you said? '_I can't take this anymore; I've failed so badly_'?"

The other's face crinkled down with anger. "So I fell. I was weak, and I gave in to you for a while, but _you_ went and _enslaved_ their only child…"

"I'm sorry?" Sebastian asked, smoothing his gloves absently. "For a _while_? You knew full well that the decision to pass on Initiative lies with the active personality. You know the rules; how every angel has to struggle with his inner demon. The demon persuades the angel, the angel persuades the demon, both fighting for the Initiative. So don't come whining to _me_ just because you were weak, or lecture me about what I have chosen to do with the Initiative. I never questioned _your _use of it or why the Initiative is always awarded at the start to the angel."

The face behind him folded into a deeper frown, and the white-clad man stalked off. "No, but you—"

"Also, for your information, I _didn't_ enslave Ciel. Rather the opposite. He called me, and I went and I was bound. "

"But you—"

"I didn't set any of the conditions of the contract, you know. Ciel was the one who decided everything. I simply accepted the—"

"_**YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO ACCEPT A CONTRACT FROM A TEN-YEAR-OLD-BOY!**__" _A pair of gigantic white feathered wings burst from the white-clad man's back as his face suddenly splotched with anger. He breathed hard for a few seconds and continued, more calmly."He couldn't—he still can't—understand the consequences of the contract. It was the most morally reprehensible act I've ever seen."

There was a moment of silence. Then Sebastian turned lazily and smiled. "That's why I'm a demon, and you're an angel. You value morals, we value results. And so, while the Initiative was _yours_, the Phantomhives perished; while _I've_ kept Ciel safe for the last two years I've had the Initiative. Who would believe that _you_ could protect him _now_, a guardian angel who once failed? _I_ wouldn't. I won't give the Initiative to an incompetent fool like you, not while Ciel needs my protection. In fact, I don't think I'll ever return it. You don't deserve it."

The angel clenched his teeth, "You're an asshole and a bastard."

Sebastian's eyes and mouth ever-so-widened slightly in amusement, and he tilted his head to the side inquisitively, "You're cussing?" He dropped back into his usual secretive, knowing smile. "Seems like the human world has soiled you."

The beautiful sky-blue eyes narrowed and the lips pursed. "I could say the opposite for you."

"What?" Sebastian said, for the first time that day, stunned by his words.

"That entire speech about protecting Ciel and keeping him safe—since when has _that_ been the main concern for a demon like you?"

"It was in my contract." Sebastian replied curtly.

The angel suddenly smirked too. "Fine, but it doesn't always override your demonic duties, does it? Yet for the last two years you've not done any of those duties."

"I don't need to hear about duty from a person who has failed in performing his." Sebastian remarked coldly, looking offended.

"As you wish," the angel shrugged. "But you know as well as I do that your discharge of demonic duties is as imperfect as was my discharge of my angelic ones."

Sebastian clenched his teeth, and did not respond. _Dammit, he's _right_. When was the last time I did something—anything—that Ciel didn't order me to or that wasn't aimed at pleasing him?_

The angelic persona read his line of thought and smiled wider. "To tell you the truth, I'm relieved. I still—want to make sure nothing bad happens to that child. Looks like I don't have anything to worry about then. I'll go for now." He paused. "But it would do you good to remember, demon, if you care too much about a human... whether you're angel or demon, as long as you're one of our stock… you'll get burnt, you know."

The angel disappeared in a flurry of white feathers. When the air finally cleared, Sebastian stood alone in his room, gloves clutched tightly in his fist. Slowly, as in a dream, his shoulders relaxed, and he looked down at the felt gloves embossed with the Phantomhive insignia.

"We'll see, won't we... Young Master?"


	2. Transferral

**Redemption: Transferral**

Blood. The scent of it suffused the air, tempered only by the choking fumes of grey strangling the mansion. There was not a single soul left alive in the carnage, and flames licked greedily at what remained of the hacked bodies.

"No, Oh God, please, no…." a white-clad man, standing horror-stricken in front of the house, said. His voice was drained of everything but desperation. "No…."

"I warned you, didn't I?" a voice came from behind him, silken, dangerous and powerful, with a wicked laugh, "Yet you still chose to save those people over your assigned charges."

The first man whirled to face his demonic other. "I didn't know this would happen!"

The demon smiled cruelly, cat-like eyes glowing with red, "That isn't an excuse, and you know it." The smile grew crueller, slyer, "_You_ made the choice. I told you that your charges would be in grave danger if you rescued those people in that building, but… you just wouldn't listen, would you?"

The angel's lips pursed as his blue eyes filled with tears of anger and despair. He turned back to look at the demolished mansion,collapsing to his knees and burying his face in his hands. "Forgive me, Earl, Lady… Ciel. I didn't know this would happen. I thought—"

The wicked, beautiful, wicked voice whispered in his ear, "You thought _wrong_. And they_ died_. Because of _you_."

"No."

"You _killed_ them."

"No!"

"You know you did."

"_STOP IT_!"

"You. Did. it."

The angel covered the sides of his head against the silken, slow, torturous whispers, lifted his head towards the heavens and wailed loudly, shattering the still-unbroken glass in the mansion. The demon smirked softly behind him as the wail slowly died out, replaced by soft sobs.

"I—I—can't take this anymore. I can't. I've failed so badly in protecting them—I—" Sobs shuddered through the body of the angel. "Ta—Take it."

The demon tilted his head inquisitively, mischievously. "Take what?"

The angel's eyes, as he looked up into the cold, amused red eyes of the demon, were bordering on madness. Tears streaked his distorted face as he screamed, "_**TAKE THE INITIATIVE!**_"

The world changed, shifted, _morphed_.

_This_ otherworld was monochromatic, empty and abstract; alien but yet not. Black and white blurred, shimmered, melded, split.

From all around, white feathers fell down slowly, elegantly, towards the grey, deadened floor, weighed down by globules of black blood. A sound of wing beats; and a flock of black crows burst through the white feathers, shedding some of their jet-black ones to join the slow pirouette to the floor.

Then the human world snapped back into focus.

In front of the former Phantomhive mansion, a man clad in black wiggled his fingers experimentally. Then he smirked.

"This…will be interesting."


	3. Prayer

**Redemption: Prayer**

The angel sat, curled up in the other, monochromatic, world where the inactive personality dwelled in when not accompanying the active personality. Amidst the eternal fall of white and black feathers, a flock of plump white doves nestled around him; cooing in soothing accents and gently brushing past him, but he continued to bury his head in his knees. He kept his arms wrapped around his ears, but it didn't dim the demon's words—or his own conscience's—echoing in his head.

_They are dead. You killed them. Your fault. Your error. You failed as Guardian. You. _

Then—a ragged, pleading voice echoed through the bleak landscape.

_Help me_. A hauntingly familiar voice. _Please, God, send an angel to save me. Please._

The angel's head snapped up. "Ciel?"

Again, the voice—and pain—and fear—echoed emptily through the other world. _Lord, help me._

The angel's heart awoke as if from a slumber. One of his charges was still alive! Purpose flowed through his limbs again. "Ciel. Ciel. Ciel! Where are you?"

The other world shimmered in response to his need, and moved, morphed. The landscape now showed him a cage in which a scared and small little boy sat, cowering. The angel leapt forward at once, recognising those brilliant cyan eyes even if they were blurred with tears. "Ciel. Can you hear me?"

He heard Ciel mutter under his breath, quietly, desperately. "_Please, please, please, God. I'll never be bad again, I won't pinch Lizzie ever again. Please, Lord, help me."_

"Ciel, look at me!"

The angel attempted to rattle the bars of the cage, and his hands passed transparently through them. His teeth gritted. He wondered if it was some sort of sick illusion the demon had conjured up to torment him—but before he could give in to anger, he remembered the long, serious speech that Gabriel had recited on the day of his becoming a guardian angel. The rules.

"**The Initiative is the control of the corporeal body that two beings shall compete for—the first being is an angel—as you all are—a servant of the Lord; the second being, a demon—your enemies—a rebel of the Lord. Therefore do not fall, for once you lose the Initiative, you will have given it to your enemy.**

**The Initiative is always, at the start, awarded to you, the angel. Every angel has his demon, both fighting for the Initiative. The being with the Initiative can will it away, but once willed away, cannot gain it back unless the other wills it back. Therefore do not fall, for once you lose the Initiative, you will almost never gain it back.**

**The fate of the being without the Initiative is to wander endlessly through the empty world, going freely but yet nowhere. The fate is to hear but not be heard, to see but not be seen, to be shut off from the physical world but for his other, his enemy. Therefore do not fall, for once you lose the Initiative, you will lose everything you love."**

The world shimmered with purpose when the angel stood up. No, no matter what Gabriel had said, he had to _make_ the demon give it back.

***

The demon, clad in a dark, tight fitting short-sleeved shirt, had his mouth sunk into a woman's throat. Drinking her deliciously thick blood, lightly flavoured with fear. And then— as every person he could entice for the last four days since he'd been given the Initiative—when the woman finally died, he would partake of her soul.

"Demon!"

The demon looked up, lips stained dark red by blood, set in a soft, unnerving smile, hovering inches away from the lifeless form of the woman. The angel shuddered in revulsion at the sight.

"I'm busy, angel."

"You have to listen to me. Ciel is still alive."

"So?" The demon asked, curling his tongue round to the corner of his mouth.

"What do you mean 'so'?" The angel demanded angrily. "I can save him. I just need you to give me the Initiative back—"

The demon nonchalantly licked a rill of blood that had trickled down his muscular arm. "No. I won't."

"But Ciel is _alive_!"

The demon's eyes suddenly turned mocking and lazy, with an extra dose of malevolence thrown in. Dropping the barely-alive woman to the ground, he walked towards the angel till they were nose to nose.

"You should have known that, even then." The demon exhaled out slowly, softly, filling the air with a rich scent. The scent of blood.

"Remember?" the demon whispered. The smell of blood seeped into his being, and he flinched as it recalled, against his will, images of that dark night.

Sound.

_The screams of children within the collapsing building. The call of his charges from the mansion, strong prayers to God. _

Thought.

_Leave the children to wait for their guardian angels, who might be too late, or to go for his assigned charges? A choice to be made in a heartbeat._

Sight.

_Wrecked stone. Fire dyeing the sky a deep crimson. Bodies lay scattered all around, seventeen in total. Seventeen. __**Seventeen. SEVENTEEN**_**. **The number leapt out at him from memory.

"No…" He gasped, shocked at the sudden realisation. The number of the staff alone at the Phantomhive household had numbered sixteen—two people had survived. But he was too distraught to note that fact at that time; hadn't even realised that one of his charges might have lived.

"Once you lose the Initiative, you lose everything you love." The demon whispered in his ear, and then walked away, past him. "And now you will complete your failure as a guardian angel.

As the landscape around him started to lose its colour, the final trace of hope died within him.

Once you lose the Initiative, you lose everything you love.


	4. Summoning

**Redemption: Summoning**

As he stalked the streets, he could hear it too, the screams for help that the little boy made, the pathetic pleadings for God to come and save him, desperate promises that he would keep, foolish little covenants offered up to the omniscient, omnipotent being who was constrained by his own rules, unable to help the child. Doubtless, the screams were driving the angel slowly crazy, an unending torment in that cold colourless world where he was entirely helpless, and _that_ knowledge gave the demon added sadistic pleasure.

But the demon noticed, too, that something was changing within the cries. Whatever the humans were doing to the boy, it was scraping off layer after layer of humanity, of belief. And if he could hear that much, then so could the angel. The demon laughed cruelly to himself in the grimy back alley, bodies of his prey around him. _Let the angel suffer._

After the first week, the boy no longer prayed for help without offering something in return. He offered up anything the Lord saw fit to take away from him, in exchange for his liberty. His title, his name, his wealth, his future, a limb, _anything_. No one came. No one could, for his guardian angel had fallen, and the rules of the Initiative forbid interference.

The beginning of the third week was marked by his repentance for whatever crimes he might have committed to deserve this punishment, and his begging for forgiveness. Around the middle of the week, that too, faded. He began to wonder if anyone heard him at all.

The forth week was silent. No longer did the boy pray, or offer covenants. His faith had been broken by cruelty and whips and knifes and the screams of other children. And on a table, strapped down by broad leather, with revellers giving him light, skin-deep slashes, just to hear him scream, he sent out a dark summons that roared powerfully through the landscapes of the inhuman worlds.

_**I OFFER MY SOUL FOR ANY BEING WHO WILL RID THIS WORLD OF THESE PESTS!**_

***

The force thundered through the other worlds, knocking the sitting angel down to the floor.

"No, Ciel!" the angel cried out, prone on the floor, "You cannot!"

***

The demon dropped his prey, shocked by the force of the summons. A strong soul. Powerful. And now, tarnished utterly by the humans. Who knew that little boy had so much strength in him? He smirked. _And my torment of the angel would be complete._

_Mine._ Shifting into the demonic other world, he sent out a quiet, dangerous warning to all the other demons who would undoubtedly want this soul too.

WhY? A voice rasped back, crackled with age—the voice of the Elder demons. _Y_oU _A_rE YoU**n**G DeM**o**n. **y**Ou CaNn**O**T D_e_FeAT U**s**.

_He was my other's charge._

Understanding flowed through the reply. _F_oR _T_or**M**EnT, T_h_En.

_Yes._

**y**Ou**R**s. The Elder demon agreed. Then a more powerful warning to other demons was sent out. **H**iS.

_Thank you._

The demon disappeared.

***

The angel stood in the demon's path in their shared other world.

"No! You can't do this, demon! Free him, but do not take his soul!"

The demon smiled wickedly, and pushed the angel aside.

"No! I'm begging you!" He grabbed the demon's arm. Magenta cat eyes met tearful blue eyes, and the angel's hand slipped _through_ the demon's arm.

"Demon!"

But the demon walked on steadily towards the boy bleeding on the pedestal. The angel fell to his knees and screamed into the ghostly landscape, powerless to do anything but watch.

***

The demon manifested in the human world, leading to screams of horror from the revellers. They scrambled away from him as quickly as they could. The demon looked at the markings scrawled upon the floor, long forgotten markings that the black society before _this_ one had used to summon demons, and realised why the summons had gotten through so clearly. No especial power was required if these marking were used. He was aware of being vaguely disappointed; but he had staked his claim. He would dispose of this boy quickly and painfully, then.

Time froze. The demonic other world materialised around them, monochromatic but for the boy and the demon. The world was empty of all, dead grey sky, dead grey floor and an eternal fall of black feathers.

"Oh…well, aren't you a very small master."

The boy glared at him through brilliant bitter cyan eyes, shocking him into the realisation that, no, this _was_ an exceptionally strong soul, summoning circle or no. "You will help me rid this world of pests like these."

"And in ret—?"

"I'm not finished," snapped the boy, making the demon's eyes widen in surprise. "You will serve me until I utterly defeat my enemies, the enemies of the Phantomhive household."

The demon dipped his head to the side. "And in return—"

"In return, you can have my soul."

"Very well. You have summoned me. This fact will not change for eternity. What has been lost will not return."

"I know." The cyan eyes turned down, bitter and sad. "I know that very well."

"Now, choose."

The cyan eyes pierced him angrily. "Choose what?"

"Where the location of the mark of this contract will be." The demon replied, "The more obvious the mark, the more power you—"

"Where would give me the most power?" The boy interrupted fiercely.

The demon hesitated. _This wasn't normal for a human, was it? _

"…The right eye. "

"Then take it."

"Yes, my Lord."

The grey floor shimmered as black started pulling itself out into square islands, leaving square patches of white. The black feathers in the air were sucked down into the black islands, forming a chessboard, as far as the eye could see. There was a sizzle as the mark of the contract burnt itself into Sebastian's skin and Ciel's eye.

The world shimmered back into the human realm. Time unfroze. A heartbeat.

Then—

"This is an order! _**KILL THEM**_!"


	5. Warning

**Redemption: Warning**

Sebastian frowned as his long-shaped, exquisite amber eyes opened. It was early in the morning; before Ciel got up. Demons didn't sleep like humans, or even Death Gods; but during the hours when they wanted to rest their physical bodies, their consciousness could wander freely through the unphysical realms. Sometimes they were space-type wanderings—those that took them through the other worlds. More rarely they were time-type wanderings—memories of the past, or images of the future.

He walked towards the dressing table and brushed out his fine black hair absently, preoccupied by his thoughts. The types of wanderings weren't—and couldn't be—consciously chosen; but when time-type wanderings came, they were usually a sign; a direct warning of _danger_ from somewhere.

So _why_ had he recalled the time around the contract? What—

"So you've finally noticed it too." The angel ducked the pewter mug flung at his head, "Really, demon, would you stop throwing things at me?"

"Pardon." The demon met the eyes of the angel through the mirror, and continued, "I would appreciate it, though, if you stopped appearing behind me like that."

The angel sniffed contempously, "You've really become so… human."

"I became what my master needed me to become," Sebastian replied coolly, straightening his shirt with a quick tug. "But you shouldn't forget that what I_ seem _to beisn't necessarily the same thing as what I _am_." He paused, buttoning up his shirt neatly. "In any case, you were saying?"

"The warnings. You've finally noticed it too."

Sebastian turned around, and gave the angel a long, hard look. "When you say 'too', you mean to say that you've gotten warnings as well."

"Yes."

Sebastian frowned, and muttered under his breath, "Which means this definitely has to do with Ciel."

He looked back into the mirror and started on his tie, "And why are you telling me this?"

The angel rolled his blue eyes in the mirror, "You should be smart enough to figure it out, _Sebastian_. I'm _still _Ciel's guardian angel."

Sebastian's long slim fingers paused in their frenzy of action, and said, with a trace of irony, "and I'm his guardian demon."

"Yes." The blue eyes shimmered, "Since we have the same objective, I want to work together with you on this. _Together_, demon."

Sebastian let out a soft snort. "I'm not giving you the Initiative."

"I know. But being in the other world means I can get to places faster than you to do reconnaissance. And unlike you demons, we angels don't lie."

Sebastian smiled unnervingly then. "Demons don't _lie_ either. We just… don't tell the whole truth."

Anger—and shameful memories—simmered at the back of the placid blue eyes, barely controlled. "I meant to say—"

"I know what you meant to say." Sebastian replied, buttoning his coat up and turning around. "I just wanted to clear up that up. Cage your anger, angel. It won't help us." He leaned his weight on the table.

"Fine." The angel took a breath in, held it, let it out. "Fine. We need to find the threat. But to do that—"

"We need to see the wanderings." Sebastian completed. He slipped a timepiece out of his coat pocket, opened it. "6.44am. I have until 7.00am before I need to start preparing Ciel's breakfast."

The angel nodded in acquiescence, his white locks falling forward.

"Very well, then." Sebastian said, snapping the watch shut, "Let us be on our way."

The world shifted under their feet as they willed themselves to slip into the unphysical realm. Memories flashed past them, unfolded, warped and distorted as the ether of the other world tried to handle both beings' conciousness.

Again, he saw memories of the transferral, the prayers, the summoning. And then one memory that Sebastian had never seen before unfolded.

***

_The angel sat, slumped hopelessly in a dark corner. He shuddered at the recollections of the formation of the contract, the blood, the way the young lad had laughed hysterically, mercilessly, as his enemies were sliced to pieces by the demon. He shivered in fear. That __**wasn't **__the Ciel he knew. That __**wasn't**__ the Ciel that he loved. It __**couldn't**__ be._

"_What's wrong?"_

_A soft voice, and a gentle touch. A girl's voice. A voice that didn't belong in this realm. The angel looked up and stared at the well-dressed brunette, who was wearing a iridescent grey frock, with fear._

"_Who are you? How can you see me and touch me?"_

_The girl smiled mysteriously, and didn't reply, "I asked my question first."_

_Without quite knowing why, the angel told her the entire story, interrupted only by short jags of crying. She listened quietly, but her eyes were gravely serious when he finished. _

"_I'm sorry things were so hard for you, but this was God's will. And **that** is a mysterious thing."_

"_But—"_

_The girl looked at him in the eyes steadily, "What has happened cannot be undone. But what happens in the future…. that you __**can**__ change."_

"_But I've lost the Initiative!"_

_She stood up, turned around and smiled at him. "That matters in a very narrow sense only. After all, child, you are a being of energy. " _

_Then she shimmered, as if in a haze, and disappeared._

***

The human world snapped back violently as the vision ended, when the ether of the other world realised that there were two beings viewing the warning meant for only one.

"She was—" Sebastian said. "She couldn't possibly have been—"

"She was."

"Rather a strange warning. But as far as I can tell, all the memories are all related to the—"

"Initiative," both demon and angel said.

"Meaning that one of our stock is trying to harm Ciel." The angel continued.

"No demon would dare harm Ciel," Sebastian said, "Not after the Elder demon marked him as mine."

"And I can safely say that no angel would intentionally harm a mortal."

"Which means that it has to be one of them."

"The Outcasts." The angel agreed grimly.

Even Sebastian paled.


	6. Outcast

**Redemption: Outcast**

There was a set order of things that the Creator of the universe had decided, which even demons, supposedly rebels against the Lord, followed.

Demon and angel were antagonistic, fighting for the control of the Initiative. Certainly, a being without the Initiative _could _help his other self, the one with the corporeal body, but he always had his own objective in mind; one not necessarily aligned with his other's purposes. Demons and angels did not _co-operate_ in matters of the Initiative.

But there _had_ been one pair of beings who had rebelled against this order.

_Why_, the angel of this pair asked, _must I guard the Initiative so closely? If forbidden fruits taste sweeter, then wouldn't making the fruit freely available make it less attractive?_

Instead of resisting her other, then, she chose to approach her in friendship; and found that her other was not so different from an angel. _There has to be some kind of error._ She believed that her other deserved a corporeal body, not the invisibility of the other world.

So she went to Gabriel, and told him what she had done, what she had discovered. He reacted with fury and cast her out of the heavenly other world. Upset and confused, believing Gabriel to have wronged her as well as her other, the former angel, after long deliberation with her other, tricked a pair of angel and demon. In that way, she obtained another corporeal body for her other.

Her other then suggested looking for the demons and joining them for support. After all, they too, were rebels.

But the Elder demons, too, reacted with disgust at their actions and denounced the pair. **W**_e __**m**_a_Y b__**e **_d**e**_m_o_Ns,__** b**_U_t __w_eP_**l**__a_Y___t_H_i__**s g**__aMe_ B_y _t**H**_e __**r**_uL_es o__f__ tH__**e **_**C**_r__eaT__**o**__r, _they had declared, O_r __**W**__i_nN_i__n__**G**__i_**t**_** H**__aS N_o m**E**_a__**n**_iN_G. __**W**_e w_**i**__l_L Ha**V**_e N_**o p**a_r__t__ O__**f**__ Y_o**U**. They were cast out of the demonic other world as well.

These were the Outcasts. Rejected by both the angels and the demons, they were left to wander the earth with neither deeds nor duties they were bound to; with only a strong sense of alienation, and injustice to themselves. By the time their powers had matured, it was too late to apologise to them.

Growing stronger with each decade, they were the only things in the universe that _both_ angels and demons feared. Dangerous. Unrestricted. Powerful.

And _angry_.

***

It was teatime when a letter arrived from the Queen for Ciel Phantomhive.

"Sebastian." The young boy shot a look at the butler, who had been rather absent throughout the day, and—rather suspiciously—had been staying by his side more than usual.

"Yes, Young Master?" The butler replied at once.

"Get ready for a trip down to Bath. The Queen requires me to—"

"I'm sorry, Young Master." The butler's thin black brows contracted together, "That is impossible."

"What do you mean, impossible?" The clear cyan eye narrowed itself at him. "Are you defying my orders?"

"Yes, My Lord." Sebastian said, bowing slightly.

"_What?_" Ciel spat, slamming the letter down on the table, making the cup rattle in the saucer. "Are you _seriously_ trying to break the contract now?"

"No, Young Master." Sebastian put a gloved hand over the cup, gently silencing the noise. "I've said this before. The_ contract _and your _orders _are different things."

The cyan eye drilled into magenta eyes, digging for the truth. "You're saying my life might be in danger if I go to Bath."

Sebastian paused for a split second, before deciding that it was time for the truth to be revealed. "No, My Lord. Your life is _already_ in danger. But _here _I can protect you better."

Ciel's gaze grew sharper. _What on earth is threatening me that even __**Sebastian **__is afraid of? _ "Tell me everything."

***

The Outcasts will find every single angel and demon in the world, and they will hurt each one as badly as they have been hurt. They will find levers to break angel and demon. And when all the angels and demons have been destroyed, they will turn their eyes to the one who crafted the cruel rules, and watch the omnipotent despair. Then they will laugh.

To them, it does not matter when their goal is accomplished; only that it _is_. They are not afraid of eternity. That they have sworn.

1,379 had been broken; 23,931,982,820,131 were left.

The next on the list: Sebastian Michaels and his angelic other.

Their lever: Ciel Phantomhive.


	7. Calm

**Redemption: Calm**

Sebastian didn't dare to look at Ciel until the end of the story, fearing that he would see hatred and anger—or even worse, tears—in that single clear eye.

Ciel had always been strong, had stood his own ground and ribbed at him like no normal human would ever dare. But Sebastian knew, too, that Ciel, like no normal human, had deep scars in his heart that he would never show anyone—and those scars related to the time of the massacre and of the fire, and the time of his confinement and torture. And here he was, confessing that he was an active agent in both.

When he finally looked at him out of the corner of his eyes, Ciel Phantomhive had his eyes closed, his chin resting on interlocked fingers, and a frown on his face, like he was trying to solve a problem. His expression revealed nothing.

Although he didn't want to ask the question—and didn't dare to know the answer, he had to know it. Swallowing, despite the fact that his mouth was bone dry with fear, he whispered in a voice that nearly cracked, "Do you hate me?"

Ciel's eye shot open at once, and awarded him with a scathing look, "What's gotten into you today, Sebastian? You've been rather… clingy." The last word was accompanied by a sly grin and a sudden, mischievous sparkle.

Sebastian hadn't been aware of holding his breath, but he let it out now. _Nothing's changed. "_But, I can hardly be _clingy,_ Young Master, since there's so_ little _of you to cling to." He beamed at the pint-sized earl innocently.

Ciel let out a snort, and the unspoken forgiveness—and apology—broke the tension in the room. He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. "Now, about these Outcasts…"

"My Lord?" Sebastian asked, recognising the gleam in that cyan eye.

"I have a plan."

***

"_What_? Are you _insane?_" The angel screamed. He turned to Sebastian, "Tell him he's insane!"

Sebastian shot a half-annoyed, half-amused look at the angel, and then repeated to Ciel, "He says you're insane, Young Master."

Ciel raised an eyebrow, "Sebastian, this 'angel' thing isn't something you made up just so you could fling unnecessary insults at me, is it?"

Sebastian smiled, "Hardly, Young Master, considering I fling enough _necessary_ insults at you all day long."

Ciel glared at him for a split second, sighed and then continued, "And _why_ does he think it's insane?"

"The Outcasts are too powerful for a single corporeal body to handle," the angel sputtered, "The safest thing to do is to _prevent_ them from getting you, not to _dangle_ you as _bait_! And especially _not _to leave you _unguarded_!"

Sebastian rolled his eyes and repeated the speech to Ciel.

Ciel smirked, "So, hypothetically speaking, if we knew they were coming, me being unprotected and unguarded would be the last thing they would expect."

"Yes, My Lord. They would assume that we were unaware of their targeting you." Sebastian replied.

The angel grudgingly assented, and had his opinion duly reflected.

"Good. Then we'll have the element of surprise." Ciel stood and went to the window. "It _may_ be safest to hide away, but I've never enjoyed the taste of safety, or the cage it brings with it." He rubbed the ring on his thumb pensively, and continued softly, "This is the game I play best, with the stakes I enjoy the most. All—or nothing."

"Ciel—" the angel started, but he stopped when Ciel turned and looked back into the room; and he saw the look on Ciel's face—and the soul within the boy. His breath caught in his throat. Cynical and bitter at the first glance, but when one looked further, quiet compassion and kindness—and strength of the soul—lay beneath. _He will be a truly great man_.

"Besides, I trust you to protect me," the boy paused, then added, "_both_ of you."

The angel bit his lip and turned away, to hide the sudden glimmer in his eyes from Sebastian. "Very well, Ciel. We'll do this your way."

Sebastian smirked at the angel for a split second, and then bowed to his master, hand over his heart.

"Very well, My Lord. We will follow your plan."


	8. Storm

**Redemption: Storm**

Tendrils of power curled around the ex-angel's hand, twining eagerly round her wrist, waiting to be unleashed, as she surveyed the reconstructed Phantomhive mansion in the early evening twilight.

"The boy is unguarded," she grinned like a snake, "More fool those two for being unable to read the warnings. This will be simple. "

"Wait, Mara." The ex-demon said, shaking her head. "There is uncertainty in the mansion. I can sense it."

"The human world is always full of uncertainties, Brónach." Mara looked askance at her companion, "Unless you think that they actually set a _trap_."

"It is possible."

"Fools!" The tendrils of power extended outwards and crackled angrily, "They think that _one_ corporeal body can stop two?"

"Foolish, certainly, but we cannot afford to be incautious or risk a large fight. We do not want to draw _His_ attention to us."

Mara drew in the tendrils, "A plan, Brónach?"

Brónach smiled quietly, raising her hand and gathering power in it too. "A distraction."

***

Sebastian stood in the drawing room, straightening his sleeves and looking pensive. _This sort of plan is typically Ciel. Bold, almost reckless, and most of all, creative to the point of insanity._ He rubbed his nose bridge again._ I just hope it'll work._

A rattle of glass, and the angel appeared at the window. "Disturbance in the East Wing!"

Sebastian gave him a sharp nod, and then sent out a loud signal to the waiting hosts. _**THE EAST WING!**_

The angels—and demons—took to flight from their respective outer worlds into the human world, the former armed with bright flaming swords, and the latter with serrated bloody blades, crackling with darkness. Sebastian smiled slightly at the sight of mortal enemies flying wingtip to wingtip.

It was just like Ciel to manage to convince _both_ sides, which hadn't been on talking terms since the beginning of time, to actually _co-operate_. He grinned in remembrance of the way that the boy had maintained his cock-sure attitude in front of beings that were a million times more powerful than him—and had entirely befuddled Gabriel, and even the Elder demons, with his smooth half-threats. Only Raphael had chuckled and agreed to the plan almost instantaneously.

He was about to follow them out into the East Wing, when he heard an angry shout from Ciel's study, "Where are you bringing me?"

_No. Not possible. The Outcasts anticipated the ambush?_

The angel heard it too. They exchanged a quick, panicked look before sprinting to the boy's study in time to see the Outcasts hauling an unconscious Ciel to the window, in quiet discussion.

One of the Outcasts spotted them. "Mara!" Her voice was both dismayed and angry.

The second Outcast turned and gave a hiss of anger and surprise, "I thought you'd distracted them, Brónach."

"I did!"

"Release him." Sebastian said, his eyes glowing, cat-like. "At once."

Mara snarled with anger. "You want him, demon?" With a quick flick of her hand, she dangled Ciel out of the window by his collar. "Go get him."

She released her grip on his collar—

"Mara! We can't draw attention to ourselves!"—

A dark blur rushed past them, making their long hair flutter in the jetstream—

A flash of power from the ex-angel's hand—

And Sebastian Michaels, carrying an unconscious Ciel Phantomhive, his black wings frantically and futilely beating against the powerful whirlwind that dragged them down towards a nexus of pulsing destruction.

_**HERE! THE OUTCASTS ARE HERE!**_ He shouted out in the other world, while his wings pumped, straining to gain altitude. But bit by bit, he was being slowly, inexorably dragged down. The others would not make it in time to save them.

He could easily fly up, of course, if he dropped Ciel, but he had sworn never to leave the boy's side. He squeezed his eyes shut, hugged the boy tightly against himself, and continued to fight against the currents of the whirlwind.

The angel stood, horror stricken, in the other world, staring down at the spiralling, destructive energy. _They won't make it. There must be something I can do! But what can I do? I've lost the Initia—_

A voice suddenly resounded in his head. _You are a being of energy. A being of energy. Being of energy._

The angel frowned and shook his head. _Why was that important? What could it possibly mean—?_ And then something clicked in his mind.

Energy. The whirlwind had energy in its currents; energy churning in its nexus. A whirlwind that was connected, though insidiously, to the Outcasts.

Energy. He was _a being of energy_.

Energy that could be _harnessed._

He knew what he had to do.

He dove into the whirlpool.

***

Sebastian, drenched with sweat, suddenly felt an explosion below him that lifted him clear of the pulling force. Arms grabbed at him from all around. He opened his eyes, found himself in the company of grim-faced angel and demons, all staring downwards. He looked downwards as well and caught sight of his wingless other, continuing his dive into the swirling whirlpool.

A shout from the now-wingless angel echoed up towards him.

_I'm counting on you to take care of Ciel, demon!_

A bright flash of light.

Sebastian shouted down in shock, "_Angel!"_

But the whirlwind had already vanished, along with all the traces of the Outcasts— and his angelic other.


	9. Aftermath

**Redemption: Aftermath**

Ciel came to with a groan. His ribs felt like they had been at the mercy of an over-affectionate grizzly bear. He tried to sit up but was pushed down immediately by two pairs of hands. He opened his eyes in annoyance, and met the eyes of his butler, sitting on his left. Sebastian was looking down at him with fear and concern, mixed with loss and pain. Ciel had never seen him look so vulnerable before.

"What happened?" Ciel croaked, leaving out the expletives which he dearly wanted to insert, to save his breath.

"_Your butler gave you some rather nasty bruises around your ribcage trying to save you_," a soft voice on his right said. Ciel turned to look at Raphael, who looked almost as emotionally bruised as Ciel felt physically. "_Hold still_." Warmth filled his chest and his breathing became lighter, freer.

That couldn't be all. The angels—and the demons—in the room looked too haunted for that to be all. He managed to sit up this time, "And?"

Sebastian turned his head away, and replied grimly, "The angel's gone."

There was a thud from the doorway as Gabriel leaned his head back into the door, "**And the Outcasts have been annihilated. We're not exactly sure what happened back there, but they're gone. Entirely**."

_As_I_**n**_iN_e B_**o****y **i_**s **__**s**__A__f_E_?_

Gabriel shot a disgusted look at the demon, before forcing himself to reply, "**He should be fine now.**"

_A_n**G**e_L __w_**a**_s __**C**_ou**R**aGE_**o**_u**S**_**.**_

"Yes." Sebastian said quietly, "Yes, he was." He continued softly, "It was lucky you managed to shout, Young Master. We wouldn't have made it in time otherwise."

Ciel gave him a puzzled look, which in Ciel, came out more as a glare.

"Shout? I didn't shout."

The look Sebastian—and the surrounding angels and demons—gave to him were part shock, part wariness.

_Then—who—or what gave that warning? _The unasked question carried in the room as the hosts ruffled their wings uneasily.

***

Sebastian returned to his room after Ciel sank into a deep sleep and the enemy hosts parted with slightly less animosity with which they had come together.

He knew that the respective others would probably hold a long conference with each angel or demon that night. Over the mystery of the shout. Over the angel's actions. Over what had happened to the Outcasts. But he—

_I thought I hated him_, Sebastian mused bitterly, _yet, why does my heart feel so dammed empty? I—and the rest of the demons—should be delighted that he's gone, but even the Elder demons were sorrowful. Why does it hurt so much that my adversary is gone?_

"You're feeling lonely, Sebastian." A soft voice said quietly. A lad's voice. Sebastian spun around to face a young boy in a dark grey, well-tailored suit, sitting on the stool he used to polish Ciel's boots. His heart caught in his throat.

"You couldn't possibly be—"

The boy replied firmly but warmly, "I am."

The demon's eyes narrowed, "What do you want from me?"

The lad smiled at him, "Nothing. I came here to _give_ you some answers, if you want them."

The demon averted his eyes from the boy who looked at him with complete understanding and pity. The soft emotions, so gentle and so kind, burnt his already broken heart and made him want to weep. _How is it that He can do this…? I'm a demon, my heart is supposed to be dead_. _**Dead!**_ "It was you, wasn't it, who shouted."

"Yes. I had restricted Myself from interceding directly in affairs when the guardian angel has fallen, but," the boy suddenly grinned, "shouting isn't exactly interfering, is it?"

His smile dimmed almost at once, and loss filled His eyes, "But because of that Zerael is gone."

"Zerael?"

"Your other's name, Sebastian." The boy leaned His chin on His hands, propped up on His knees. "Fortunately—or unfortunately—he understood my message when I visited him."

"What did the ang—Zerael do?" Sebastian asked, purposefully avoiding the question he wanted to ask, and hoping he would indirectly get an answer.

"Nothing more than simple physics for an angel." The boy shrugged, "First he changed his wings into matter and antimatter, then he combined them below you. The explosion lifted you clear of the whirlwind. He couldn't be hurt by anything physical, since he'd lost the Initiative, but the nexus had a thread to Mara and Brónach. He entered it and followed it to them, and then turned himself into a catalyst, changing their beings into antimatter, which destroyed their corporeal bodies."

Sebastian bit his thin lips. _He wants me to ask the question, doesn't He._ Sebastian took a soft, sighing breath, and refused to oblige the boy, instead asking another factual question. "Why were the Outcasts different from the rest of us?"

The lad smiled at him again, and instead of replying, said instead, "You asked once why the angel is always given the Initiative first, didn't you?"

Nonplussed, Sebastian nodded.

"Cause and effect, Sebastian. The angel is _not_ given the Initiative. The being that is given the Initiative _becomes_ the angel over the years. The being that _isn't_ becomes the demon. The human world changes you; and the other world changes you. At their core, angels and demons are not so very different, although they want to believe they are." The boy sighed, "Mara found that out—and was cast out. Because we need balance—and belief—in the universe."

_And for me? What of **my** balance?_ Sebastian asked silently, refusing to voice the sentiment that made him weak in his own eyes.

The boy looked at him in the eyes, and the gentle, sad, _absolute_ understanding of knowing how it felt to be alone shone in them. "You're wondering if something that has been lost can ever be gained back, aren't you." It wasn't a question, and Sebastian felt his tongue cleave to his throat, stripped bare before this boy.

The boy stood up, smiled at him and said, very softly, "Believe in the First Law of Thermodynamics, child."

And He disappeared.

***

Sebastian stared at the empty air for a moment before muttering under his breath, "You were _much_ less annoying, angel." He took a deep breath in, let it out, and then struck the nearest wall with his fist.

The room rattled, as Sebastian forced his mind and heart to return from their unsettled state. After another deep breath in and a long exhale that approached a sigh, he felt like himself again. His amber eyes closed momentarily, and he missed the slight flicker the candles on his mantelpiece gave.

***

Energy cannot be created or destroyed, merely changed to another form.

**-FIN-**

_And that's the end of the Redemption series! Thank you to all the people who reviewed /added to favourites/ alerted etc.! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. ^^_

_-Cordelia Yang 2008_

_Kuroshitsuji belongs to Toboso Yana. Don't sue me; I'm penniless!_


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